Like crimson bass strings
Like roses twirling in the breeze
Like cherry blossoms
Like tendrils climbing up my knees
Like long port wine stains
Shaping a name long cast aside
Like blazing embers
Smoldering before blazing bright
Like PTSD
Like golden strings around my neck
Like the putrid yellow
After storms leave the world a wreck
I call upon a savior
But your fell voice is all that comes
Like jaundiced bile
Spewing from my torn and blackened lungs
Staring at your shadow
Long fingers reaching out like claws
To scratch straight down my back
To free my bones for you to gnaw
I've given up October
And cast poor June upon the fire
Haunted by the Reaper's chains
Shackled by the prince of liars
The scent of smoke surrounds you
The smell of family and of home
And of purple bruises
Which day to day would often roam
Pull my sleeve up higher
Hide the reminder of your kiss
Even after it fades
There was no recovering from this
Our school days are far behind us now, so sadly,
Yet our shared lives I still praise so gladly.
The moments in our past I will always cherish;
You gave me endless smiles that will never perish.
The memory of your embrace and kindest words
Still fills the air like the morning song of birds.
You always shone with power, grace, and true ability,
Living your life with more abundance than nobility.
I think of innocent days when we just played—
Two little girls giggling, unbothered in the shade.
Atop your bunk bed, anchor women on the screen,
We read the nightly news and imagined every scene.
Those childhood headlines sparked a creative flame,
And taught my heart to love the poetry I now frame.
You enrich your destiny with so much love now,
Stepping into a new journey with a marital vow.
I am eternally grateful to be here as your friend,
Blessed by a beautiful connection with no end.
My days are a golden canvas where true devotion shines,
Reflected in a loyal bond that beautifully entwines.
Milkweed butterfly,
iconic pollinator.
Golden, bold, and black.
Eastern migrant,
Canada to Mexico,
A thousand miles back.
Western wanderer,
winters in California.
Recalls its way north.
Milkweed butterfly,
iconic pollinator.
Golden, bold, and black.
There's golden moonshine this autumn night
Though air is cool romances ignite
Lovers stroll in bewitched ambience
Wrapped together in love's dalliance.
The autumn moon changes night by night
Yellow, orange or red, gleaming bright
A glimmering globe hung in the sky
Delighting hearts of those passing by.
Autumn produce in colourful hue
Apples in shades of red or green too
Delicious pears so juicy and sweet
Are a delightful autumnal treat.
Days become shorter each passing day
A sign that winter is on its way
Evenings find us all snuggled up
In our cosies, hot drink in a cup.
Fair maiden with the locks of molten gold,
Whose gentle grace doth make the sun seem dim,
No earthly treasure that the heavens hold
Can match thy virtue, pure in every limb.
Thine eyes, like morning dew upon the rose,
Do awaken all my spirit with delight;
When darkness falls and all the world doth close,
Thy shining tresses guide me through the night.
Sweet lady, let my humble heart draw near,
To tender thee a vow that shall endure;
Through every changing season of the year,
My love for thee abides forever sure.
No fleeting time can fade thy radiant hair,
Nor dim the sweet perfection of thy face;
For God hath framed no creature half so fair,
Nor crowned a maiden with so bright a grace.
In lands of lofty mountain peaks
God deftly weaves the Aspen trees
through evergreens, with spires high
in crisp, thin air over clear blue skies.
Upon His loom yellow leaves are spun
like fine gold threads until they’re done
a golden weave of shimmering shock
sunlight flashes through dark forest stock.
We who believe are like golden trees
where the light of Truth can be received
by those who wander in forests blind
unable to see the Truth defined.
From the Vine the Spirit spreads
through intricate roots, connecting threads
of hope and peace, from darkness to light
from sin to redemption and glory bright.
golden sun rises
through webworm's web on pecans....
crows wait harvest
golden light recedes
a gentle sigh the breeze makes~
nature`s cycle spins
the day`s orb, once fierce
now tells a quieter tale~
mountains a witness
tall trees toss a moan
summer reign reaches its end~
time begins to bend
before amber blush
leaves sing with a buzzing sound~
the sky lends its ears
sunbeams softly fade
cicadas cease their loud tunes~
stillness in the night
birds prepare for flight
warmer climes waiting for them~
summer`s sweet farewell
summer softly close
a string of moments held dear~
memories remain
a final warm breeze
carries scents of sun baked earth~
harvest time at hand
air, once thick with scent
carries cool whispers to space~
a prelude to fall.
A bed of golden flowers spreads across blades of grass
It's like a blanket of sunshine on the ground
A resting place waits without a sound
Soft, comforting, unlike the broken glass
Pieces of glass, those sharp memories left behind
As views of blurred miles are passed
The wheels of change turn, oh so fast
Old thoughts, new thoughts, pass through my mind
A bed of golden flowers remains fresh and new
Thriving safely, freely, on the way
Highlights such a beautiful, clear day
Offering peace with a bright, stunning, view
There is no return to what was lost
Only today, as precious time moves forward
Although there's proof of being no coward
Knowing the bed of flowers will fade with the frost
Heidi Sands
8/30/26
(C)opyright
As sung to the tune of
Help Me Make It Through the Night
The Original song was sung by Kris Kristofferson
Once gold was my long blond hair
But summer's changes turned to fall
Now there's wrinkles on my skin
Lines of memory of it all
Yet you're still here by my side
Love by day and through the night
Flyin' fast, our walk-through time
Hand in hand walk in the Light
And we're still singin' our song
Though baby, I don't understand
How yesterday's tomorrows,
On earthly plains, somehow must end
Many tomorrows are gone
That were once far outa' sight
With you, I've never been alone
Lovely days of golden light
Lord, I'm grateful for this life
Lord, I'm grateful, I'm his wife! <3
Happy 49th Anniversary Jerry, I love you!
A 49th Anniversary song (Sort of a parody!?) to my beloved husband Jerry, from his loving wife, Betty Jo.
As sung to the tune 'Help Me Make it Through the Night'
Original Songwriter: Kris Kristofferson.
wild winds start to sigh
dancing leaves in hurried swirl
nature's ballet grand
golden leaves descend
whispering secrets to earth
a gentle farewell
sunlight, softer now
paints the world in amber hues
nature's final blush
geese fly overhead
a journey to distant lands
their calls mount to sky
pumpkins in the field
waiting for joyful harvest
sweetness from the soil
apples ripe and sweet
juice drips down the eager chin
taste of autumn's joy
longer shadows creep
as the day begins to wane
peace rests in the soul
scent of wood smoke drifts
carried on the crisping air
old memories stirred
misty mornings rise
veils of white across the land
quiet beauty seen
crisp air fills the lungs
a cleansing breath for the soul
preludes winter`s hold.
My ancestors believed witches had magic
My ancestors worshiped a golden calf
I'm embarrassed, such folly is tragic
I shake my head and have to laugh.
Today between females and males there are no lines
We say we can surgically change either side
We can power our cities on wind turbines
And Israel's guilty of genocide.
We can always squeeze more from the rich
We know there's always money to burn
No hurdle, no obstacle, no hitch
40 trillion debt, no need for concern.
So we're so much smarter than those shepherds in the rocks
They worked for their money, thought nothing was free
Fought off invaders, and tended their flocks
Could they have been closer to reality?
I have no beef with your God
(unless it's The Golden Calf)
who they may say
works in mysterious ways
but I take umbrage at those who claim
to speak on his or her behalf
and here's a laugh
'No graven image' was handed down
yet they're here there and everywhere
all over town
The chilling wind begins to
softly sigh,
As golden leaves fall down from
branches high.
Golden Maple leaves
Skim along the pond's hard face
In the cold knowledge
That dreads with winter's approach-
Harbinger of snowy dunes.
Winner: 2nd Place End of Summer, Beginning of Fall Tanka, Tania Kitchin (Sponsor) 8/27/26
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